


Dreams of Avalon

by Plueschie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Death, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Fantasy, Hurt, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plueschie/pseuds/Plueschie
Summary: Last moments, words - and pain.When nothing remains, but hope.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Dreams of Avalon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one shot as a christmas present, for one of my closest friends. With Arthur's deathday coming up a short story, circling around that moment, seemed quite fitting.

# Dreams of Avalon

„...Thank you...“, Arthur whispered with his last breath, panting heavily in pain. His fingers, clung to Merlin's arms, which held him in comfort, as thick tears were dripping on his pale skin. Skin that was even whiter than a sheet of paper right now. Trembling, dry lips, desperately tried to grasp for air, not getting enough into those weakening lungs, as he clung to life, so dearly. 

“Arthur... no... please, Arthur, I don't know what to do without you, I don't... Arthur, please stay with me...” Desperation filled Merlin's barely audible words, words, taken from gasps and sobs. He was not ready to let go. To let go of his his king. Of hope. Of best friend. Of the man he loved. Thus he shouted for Kilgharrah, clinging to the hope that Arthur could be saved. That he wouldn't lose this fight. That it wasn't to late, if he... if he would just reach Avalon in time. If he was fast enough. If he'd just get him there... 

“I have one last favour to ask, old friend...” The warlock begged for the dragons help. And he should receive. But no matter how fast Kilgharrah flew they were not in time. The young king was already lost. Cold and lifeless, did Arthur rest in his friends arms, as they finally reached the lakeside. 

“There's nothing you can do, young Warlock. The piece has already reached his heart.”  
“No... this can't be. I can't lose him. Not like this. Not now!” Merlin sobbed, devastated they didn't get there in time. Did he waste too much time? Did they take to many stops, for Arthur to rest? If he'd just gotten to him faster... if he'd returned from the crystal cave earlier. But what good was this now. He couldn't undo what had happened, he had to fight and save him, he had to.  
“This is not... this...”

“Merlin...” Kilgharrah's deep and soothing voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin. Arthur is not just a king. He is the once and future king. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.“ 

With that said, the dragon softly stubbed his nose against his human friends head, saying goodbye to him forever, too. “The story that we've been a part of, will live long in the minds of men. It was an honour, old friend..” 

Just like that Merlin was left all alone on that lakeside, in tears, broken, barely getting air himself, as pain and grief took over his body and mind. This wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Merlin had lied to him for so long and only in the face of death Arthur got to truly know his friend. How different things could have been if only he'd told him earlier... but he didn't. He lived a lie for so long, never granted his friend the benefit of a doubt, that he wouldn't kill or cast him away, but that he'd accept him the way he was. As he did. Merlin felt ashamed for this. For revealing something that big only the minute, Arthur was about to leave. Well, sure it was better than not having him known at all, but it still felt wrong. How he tricked him over and over again, leading Arthur to make decisions he probably wouldn't have... How could he do this man justice? Someone who's always been upfront and true to him. Someone who had relied on their friendship so much... Someone who's heart has visibly been broken the moment the one person he relied on the most, told him he wouldn't join him in his biggest – and in the end - last battle. Offering nothing but excuses for that. 

No, it wasn't that Merlin had been a capable fighter, but the bond between the two of them it gave the king strength. Something he'd taken from him, with his lies. If he'd only told him sooner... Arthur would have known he'd join his side again. But Merlin hadn't. 

In the end Arthur paid the ultimate price, for believing in the people he loved. All his life he'd been lied to, by the people he loved. By his father, his sister, his closest friends... and as brother stabbed brother, killed by someone he'd trusted the most, a long era of lies came to an end. 

Merlin did not know how long he'd been sitting there, cradling the lifeless body he couldn't let go, while the heavens seemed to weep, too, washing away Merlin's tears, as hours passed. Or days? He didn't know. His legs felt weak, barely able to carry him, as he finally got up. Gathering his last strength Merlin pulled his friend closer to the lake – and finally to his final resting place: a little boat, that was to take Arthur over, to the other side, into the mists of Avalon.

He took care, his friend laid well, gracefully and worthy of a king. Tears still streaming down his cheeks, the young warlock took a last glimpse at his friend, as he leaned over, pressing his nose against Arthur's forehead. 

“Until we meet again.” Merlin whispered and intended to push the boat, as suddenly a sharp breath pulled him out of his thoughts: Arthur's eyes were flickering open, his lips soaking in air for a deep breath. 

“Merlin...” he whispered, smiling, raising one hand to his friends cheek. “...why are you crying?” Arthur wanted to know. His voice was soft, even so a bit raspy.  
“I... that... it's I miracle... I thought I lost you... Arthur...” Merlin sobbed, breaking into more tears.  
“Someone crowed to soon, didn't they?” Arthur smirked.  
“Don't... please, this...”  
“Sssht...” 

Soft fingers brushed through dark hair, as Arthur pulled his friend a bit closer.  
“I'm here, Merlin.”  
Soft words brushed trembling lips. The kings expression was soft and he carried a vivid smile, pulling his friend even more closer.  
“I'm here...” 

As their lips were about to touch a cold breeze took halt of Merlin, sending shivers down his spine.  
“I'm here...” Words echoing in his head, as another breeze brushed over his skin, pulling him out of the moment. 

Merlin exhaled deeply, as his eyes slowly opened. He was staring at a white, wooden ceiling. Tears watered the corners of his eyes. Honks of the traffic outside his flat, muffled through closed windows. Wind blew against not completely closed blinds, making them clatter in the wind. The clock upon his bed told it was 3 am. 

It#s been routine. Every night the same nightmare.  
Merlin grabbed a glass of water, waiting for him next to his bed. He was sweat-soaken and exhausted. For 1500 years it was the same nightmare every night. Some kind of self-flagellation of his mind, letting him relieve the worst day of his life, over and over again. Except... No. Something was off. Massively off. 

As if in shock Merlin jumped his bed, staring into the darkness. He just realised it. Merlin hastily grabbed for a sweater, running out of his apartment, dressed with nothing but slippers, boxer shorts and a sweater, Arthur's voice echoing in his head: 

“I'm here...”

_the end_


End file.
